


Modern Pre-Serum Tattoo Artist Stucky AU

by chekovna



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekovna/pseuds/chekovna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pre-serum, non-Avengers, modern au: Tattoo artist Steve Rogers develops a crush on Bucky Barnes, a ridiculously attractive new client, and his co-worker and best friend Natasha Romanoff decides to give him a some encouragement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Pre-Serum Tattoo Artist Stucky AU

REQUEST: why-put-a-new-address said; would pre serum Steve in a modern non avengers au work? Like tattoo artist Steve maybe?? Him getting a new customer aka Bucky and Nat (his coworker and current best friend) nudges him to make a move?? it doesn’t have to be exactly that if u don’t want tho. thank u so much for writing this

link to it on my tumblr: http://arohawkeye.tumblr.com/post/124987657900/request-why-put-a-new-address-said-would-pre

word count: 4.6k

 

——————

“C’mon, Nat! I’m workin’ here! Or at least I’m trying to,” Steve grumbles as Nat and Sam Wilson, Steve’s regular client currently lying on the tattoo bed under Steve’s needle, laugh. “Hey, Wilson, don’t move, or I’ll stab you.”

“He means it,” Nat says, looking at Sam sternly before the both of them burst into hysterics. Steve sighs and leans back, just about ready to give up on his uncompliant customer.

“I’ll stab you too, Romanoff.”

“Ooo, scary!” she mocks, lifting her needle from her client’s skin to wiggle her fingers at him.  
He rolls his eyes as a small grin comes across his face despite his frustration, and he wipes the part of Sam’s back he was working on before standing up to grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge across the room.

He and Nat opened up shop in a busy spot in Brooklyn less than four months ago, but they’ve already had more customers than they can count. Nat likes to brag that it’s because of her amazing website with her and Steve’s portfolios, but Steve just smirks and insists it’s because of his, and not her, amazing credibility, combined with his interior and exterior design skills. Tony, Nat’s cousin, likes to point out at that they only gained a significant influx of customers two weeks after they opened up shop, right after Nat put up the website, but Steve likes to insist otherwise.

“Hey!” Sam shouts indignantly as Steve takes long, dragged out sips of his water while staring Sam in the eyes. “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t move anymore,” Sam pleads, struggling to get his words out properly while also looking at Steve as he lies on his stomach. Steve pulls his hearing aid out of his right ear and taps it with a shrug, mouthing ‘I can’t hear you!’ Sam is, quite frankly, offended, and completely at a loss for words as Nat snorts and wipes her client’s bicep tattoo of a mythological hydra, it’s multiple heads wrapping around the client’s arm.

“There you go, Miss Rumlow! All done!” Steve, Nat, and Sam, cheer (well, Nat and Steve cheer as Steve stuffs the aid back in his ear, and Sam emits muffled yet excited whines) as Brooke Rumlow, Nat’s current two week project, flexes her incredibly muscular bicep, giving her tattoo the creepy effect of seeming to move. Steve shudders internally at the heads that seem to follow his every action.

“Awesome!” Brooke exclaims, moving to get up.

“Uh uh uh!” Nat hollers, holding an arm out to a startled Brooke as a signal for her to remain seated. “Aftercare, remember? Just as important-”

“-as the actual tattoo,” Rumlow finishes, smiling sheepishly as she settles back into her seat. 

Steve grins as he caps his water and quietly pads across the black and white floor tiles back over to Sam. Nat smiles broadly as she rolls over a cart with a tub of cold water, green soap, and witch hazel on it. “This is my favorite part, you know,” Nat confides in her client, speaking as if she were passing on a guarded secret.

Steve snorts and sits back in his chair, getting back to work on Sam’s tattoo. Sam yelps, and Steve subsequently lets out a long stream of curses, as Sam’s little body jerk that came along with the yelp moved the needle. “Wilson!” he exclaims angrily, dipping his cloth into his own tub of water before wiping Sam’s back gently to clean it up.

“Sorry, sorry, I fell asleep!” Sam urgently mutters apology after apology, but Steve cuts him off in irritation.

“Alright, alright, you’re forgiven. It’s your skin, not mine.” Sam flushes red and grimaces as Steve continues working.

Nat looks on in both amusement and concern as she rubs witch hazel on Rumlow. “You boys ok there?” They both mutter ‘yea’ and continue to concentrate. She and Brooke roll their eyes and stand as Nat finishes bandaging her bicep.

“Alright, Rumlow. Looks great! Keep it on for 6 hours, 5 at the very least if you’re really raging to show it off, but if it’s irritating you, you can remove the bandage after 4 hours. If you still feel like it’s not done seeping and stuff and want to protect it for a little while longer, which is great and highly recommended, DO NOT go over 8 hours! Or else.” Nat glares menacingly at Rumlow, whose mouth is slightly open in both shock and intimidation. Nat laughs and playfully smacks Rumlow’s unbandaged arm as she shuts the cash register. “I’m just kidding, sweetheart! Relax, enjoy your new tat, and don’t forget to wash it as soon as you remove the bandages!” She smiles warmly and tucks a stray strand of her shoulder-length pink hair behind an ear covered with piercings as Brooke sighs and receives her change. “But seriously, don’t keep it on for more than 8 hours. And remember, aftercare is-“

“-just as important as the tattoo, yea yea, I got it. Thanks so much!” Brooke smiles and waves as she walks out the door, holding it open for an incoming client.

Steve instinctively looks up as the client walks in, and his needle stills and lifts off of Sam’s back as Steve drinks in the view.

“Hey, Stevie, what’s up?” Sam asks, muffled. When Steve doesn’t reply, Sam stretches his head up to look at Steve and opens his mouth to ask why he suddenly stopped, when Sam follows the lanky kid’s gaze to the man standing in the doorway. His dark hair is bunched up in a bun at the top of the back of his head in typical man-bun fashion, revealing his undercut and several small silver hoops in the cartilage of his ears. Steve can make out a red star on the right side of the man’s skull beneath his short hair. His eyes rake up and down the new client's neck, admiring his various tattoos.

Steve finds himself suddenly and completely attracted to this stranger.

“Mr. Barnes! So great to see you again!” Natasha coos, walking out from behind the checkout counter to shake the guy’s hand. He looks up Steve, who is damn close to gaping, and winks. Steve blushes a deep shade of red down his neck and up to his ears and quickly returns to working on Sam, who hisses at the sudden return of contact. Steve is too busy thinking about both the tattoo and this Mr. Barnes to give a sly comment.

Barnes chuckles, and it’s a deep, rumbling sound that seems to come from this man’s chest, and it’s got Steve weak. He curses at himself internally and resolves to focus solely on the tattoo. He wasn’t about to let some guy ruin his perfect streak of overly satisfied customers. Plus, Sam was a friend, and Steve had been been working on his wings for two long sessions now. Steve wasn’t about to scrap two weeks of hard work and patience over this newcomer. 

On a side note, Sam was also looking forward to his new tattoo.

“Please, call me Bucky,” the man insists, and Steve has to resist the urge to snort, because what kind of a ridiculous name is that? A ridiculous name to go along with a ridiculous face, he thinks.

Steve can hear the smile in Nat’s voice as she replies. “Of course! Of course, Bucky. Oh! I’ve got your design right here!” 

There’s some shuffling behind Steve for a minute before it stops, and Bucky whistles. “Wow. This is- This is so great! It’s impressive, really, I- Wow. Thank you so much, Natasha! It’s exactly what I envisioned!” Bucky seems downright floored with Nat’s uncanny ability to draw exactly what the customer wants and/or needs, and Steve sees this as his opportunity to speak up.

“Yeah, Nat’s great like that. I like to think of myself as the better artist, but Nat’s the better listener. No pun intended,” Steve adds. Natasha cracks up as Steve taps his hearing aid, and suddenly the room is filled with Bucky’s low, deep laugh again, and it takes extra energy for Steve to focus on Sam’s tattoo. “I’m Steve, by the way. I’d get up and shake your hand, but I’m a little preoccupied trying to make this man fly,” Steve jokes, and he’s rewarded with the return of Bucky’s ebullient chuckle.

“Sam here!” Sam introduces himself with his face still facing the floor. “I’d wave also, but I’m a little less free than Steve for the moment, at least until he hands over my wings, so you’ll have to wait to be graced with my great looks.” Bucky’s laugh comes back for an encore, and Steve rolls his eyes at Sam, even if no one can see him.

“I’ll take you to the back, then, for a final discussion and some touch-ups?” Natasha suggests. Bucky nods, and the two head to the consultation room behind the bead curtain as Steve finally finishes up the last of the details on Sam’s left wing.

“Alright, Sammy boy, wing one is done!” Sam lets out some muffled cheers as Steve gets up to get his cleaning kit. He cleanses Sam’s entire upper back and left arm, also getting to some of the outline of Sam’s right wing, and applies the witch hazel before snapping a photo and bandaging Sam. He helps Sam up and out of the bed and sends him the picture, which Sam is absolutely thrilled about. Steve tries to ignore the laughter coming from the back room, but he somehow manages to zone in on Bucky’s voice instead.

“Wow, thanks man! You’ve got a real gift,” Sam remarks.

Steve grinned. “I mean, I worked my ass off to refine that gift, but yeah,” Steve reasons with a smug expression, “-it all comes pretty naturally.”

Sam rolls his eyes and snickers as he hands over the due payment. His phone lets out a few notes played by an army bugle, and he looks down at it and groans. “Oh man, I’m late! I gotta go pick up my nephew from school! Thanks again, Steve!” Steve waves as Sam sees himself out, just as Nat and Bucky come back from the consultation room.

“Alright, Bucky, you can mull over that picture for a week or so to make sure it’s exactly how you want it, and I’ll see you on the 18th, alright?” Nat says, walking Bucky to the door.

“Sounds great,” he agrees, holding up a yellow folder with the picture of his proposed tattoo sticking out of the top. “See you then!” He waves at Nat and Steve with a grin and walks out. Steve watches him head west down the block and cross the street, only for him to get swallowed in the crowd of people and cars during rush hour traffic. Nat coughs, interrupting his daydream.

“Hm?”   
“You should take a picture, Steve; it’ll last longer.”

Steve rolls his eyes and moves out from behind the checkout counter to clean up his work space, Nat following him to do the same. She smirks at his back as he picks up his cleaning kit and brings it to the back to dump the dirty water and wash his cloths. Nat sets her things down at the sink next to him and continues, “I saw the way you were gaping at our customer, Rogers.”

Steve snorts. “Who, Sam? Well, I mean, I was kind of working on-“

Natasha sighs exasperatedly at her stubborn best friend and face palms, over exaggerating just a tiny bit. “Oh my God, Steven! Please, I will not go through this again!”

“Go through what again?” Steve asks, feigning stupidity. He tries not to look embarrassed as he recalls the last time he had found someone exceptionally attractive.

“Uhm, remember Sharon?” Nat asks, tapping her foot impatiently and looking at Steve accusingly.

Oh, Steve remembers Sharon alright. He had thought she was the coolest person to ever walk this planet. She was picture perfect, with her hip-length silky blonde hair and wide, baby blue eyes. She was basically a female Steve 2.0. In Steve’s mind, anyway. And by the time Steve had summoned up the courage to ask her out, after he finished tripping over himself and accidentally dumping various sauces and beverages all over Sharon multiple times, Sharon smiled apologetically and said she had recently acquired a boyfriend. She then tapped on his head and waved to Steve as if he were a cute child, as her (equally aesthetically perfect) boyfriend swooped in and attached himself to Sharon’s arm while glaring at a dumbfounded Steve.

“Well, Sharon- I- w-well… Sam!” he stutters out, ending by pointing a finger at Natasha, whose face quickly colors a dark pink.

“Sam is different,” she huffs, and Steve’s blush recedes as he smirks. “Hey! Don’t turn this on me!” she shouts, wringing out her cloths with force and flinging them onto a drying rack. “You like Bucky, you liiiike Buuuckyyyy,” she sings, smiling over her shoulder in a rather triumphant manner as she carries her blue tub on her hip back to the front of the practice. Steve grunts in annoyance, lifts his tub over his right shoulder, and follows Natasha back to the front.

“I do not like Bucky,” Steve persists. “Sure, he’s got nice hair and a really great laugh, and- hey, why are you smiling?!” Nat giggles and spins gracefully behind the counter to organize the folders. “I hardly even know this guy,” he grumbles.

“Hm,” Nat says thoughtfully. “Well, let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you all about him! We can stalk his Instagram and everything!” she decides, locking up the cash register and pulling Steve out the door.

 

—8 days later—

 

“Bucky! Hey! How are you?” Natasha damn near shrills as she works on a tattoo. She winks at Steve, who is currently sitting at the checkout counter working on a sketch. She wouldn’t shut up about Bucky for the past week or so, and he was getting annoyed. He glares at her before turning to smile at the newcomer.

“I’m great, thanks! How are you guys?” Bucky returns obliviously, flashing a bright smile at Steve, who is actively trying to repress a blush.

“Awesome,” they say at the same time.

Bucky chuckles and hands over the folder with his tattoo design in it. It’s a forearm tattoo made to look like a bionic arm, with tattooed pieces of torn flesh around it. It’s sick af, Steve decides. 

“All set?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow. He suspects Natasha purposely booked someone for her at that specific time on that exact day so that he would be forced to tattoo Bucky.

Not that he was complaining. Yet.

Bucky fingers the hem of his t-shirt and tucks that one part in before nodding and bearing a wide smile. “All set, captain. Take ‘er away!” Steve can’t help but laugh as he leads Bucky over to a bed and motions for him to sit down. He puts the design on a stand where he can clearly see it and cleans Bucky’s forearm thoroughly. It’s an easy enough tattoo with a relatively small coverage, so it should only take two sessions. 

Steve is beginning to feel grateful for that fact.

As he preps the ink and the needle, he smirks and looks up at Bucky, who is still settling into his seat and looking around the room. “Nervous?” Bucky’s head snaps around to look at Steve and he just smiles, before looking down at where Steve is drying his arm.

“Aw, Bucky, don’t worry; Steve is perfectly capable! He’s had, what, a good two patients? Right, Steve? Fresh out of school, that one!” Natasha lies jokingly, winking at the two of them. 

Bucky’s eyes go wide before he hears Steve laugh and say, “Haha, Natasha, very funny! Look, you’re scaring our customers!” he banters back, gesturing to Natasha’s client’s raised eyebrow and Bucky’s startled expression. Bucky visibly relaxes, and Steve can feel his laugh as his own fingers ghost over Bucky’s skin.

'Keep it together, Stevie. We don’t need another Sharon, do we?' Steve thinks.

Steve has to keep from shuddering.

He brings a purple tattoo marker to Bucky’s forearm and gets to work on drawing the tattoo before he actually uses a needle to make it permanent. Bucky keeps perfectly still, and Steve can feel his eyes flicking back and forth from his arm to Steve. Steve can feel Bucky’s taught muscles under the tough, shaved skin, and he grips Bucky’s arm to keep him in place. Steve is, admittedly, pretty small in comparison to Bucky, so he doubts his grip alone is doing much good, but the arm is staying in place, so Steve doesn’t really care.

Okay, he finds their size difference a total turn on, but he won’t admit it. At least not to anyone else.

He finishes the ‘scratch copy’ in no time, double checks it against both the design and with Bucky, and finally brings the needle to Bucky’s forearm and presses down.

It obviously isn’t Bucky’s first tattoo, but he’s an incredible patient. If only he wasn’t staring at me so hard, Steve thinks. Despite himself, he can’t help but admire the pure muscle beneath his hands and the tan flesh that is dark in comparison to Steve’s rather pallid hue, and he suddenly thinks that he should get out in the sun more often. Steve grips Bucky’s thumb and palm to keep him in place as he works on the bottom of the tattoo. It’s evident by the callouses on his hand that Bucky rock climbs, and all at once Steve finds Bucky even more attractive. He probably plays guitar too, Steve thinks, blushing at the thought of Bucky serenading him. He can see Bucky smile in the corner of his eye and quickly tries to repress the blush, even though he knows it’s too late.

Steve vows to focus on the tattoo from then on.

———

“Alright, there you go,” Steve says as he finishes bandaging Bucky’s forearm. “I did all of the outlines and most of the shading. I just gotta shade the other half and put on some final touches next session, and you can show it off to everyone you know!" 

Bucky laughs, and Steve realizes he’s hanging on to every sound wave and just can’t get enough of it. “Well, maybe not everybody. I don’t know if my dad would appreciate it much.” They laugh and walk over to the checkout desk.

“Well, your girlfriend will fall in love with it,” Steve says lightheartedly, hoping for a positive response, but his face falls when Bucky looks down, rubs the back of his neck, and grimaces.

“Er… Yeah, uh… girlfriends aren’t really my… area of expertise…” Bucky admits, letting out a nervous breath. Steve’s mouth forms a slight ‘o’ before he shuts it quick and looks down at the register to get Bucky’s change.

“Uhm, yeah… I know the feel,” Steve assures, giving Bucky a smile small. Barnes’s head lifts back up, and a wide grin shoots across his face as he receives his cash. He lets out a small laugh. Steve sees Natasha come out of the back room in his peripheral vision, and she smirks.

“Good to know I’m not alone.” He winks at a shy Steve. “Well, thanks buddy. I’ll see you next week!” Bucky declares, all smiles again. He waves cheerfully at Nat and Steve before opening the door and stepping out, the little silver bell hanging from the door jingling as it shut.

Nat whistles and claps, but Steve just rolls his eyes. “Quit it, Nat. Nothing’s gonna come of it.”

“So you do like him!”

Steve scowls. “I do not,” he lies, gritting his teeth. His back is to Nat as he cleans up his work space, but he can practically see her pompous look; the energy is just radiating off of her.

“Mmm hmm. Listen, Steve. How often do ya meet a guy that bats on the same team as you? Go for it! The worst he can say is no. Which he won’t,” she adds quickly, holding up a finger, “because I know for certain that he likes you too,” she finishes matter-of-factly. Steve swears his eyes are going to roll out of his head if he has to listen to her talk anymore, but he doesn’t say anything, knowing it’ll just encourage her. “C’mon, Stevie!” she whines. “When was the last time you went on a proper date?! You need to go outside, live a little, have fun!”

“Okay, maybe I do,” Steve concedes, causing Nat to jump up and down and squeal with excitement. “But not with him!” Nat’s pouts. “I hardly know him, and,” he jumps in, interrupting Nat before she can say anything, “your oh-so-informative night out? Not that informative, sorry. You don’t even know the guy! He could be an axe murderer, for all we know!”

“You don’t really think that, Steve,” she huffs. It was Nat’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, I can’t really think anything about this guy, because I’ve known him for not even twelve hours! Listen, Nat, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do, but I think I can find my own date,” he insists.

“But Steve,” she continues, following her nearly pissed off friend to the back room. “You don’t have to! Listen, I’ll do a full background check on this guy, as if I didn’t do enough checking on him when I accepted him as a client, but this time around I’ll pull in all the stops. Stalk his Facebook, Twitter, Instagram; I’ll even pull in some favors from Nick!” she exclaimed, referring to their close mutual high school friend who graduated from the FBI Academy earlier this year. She’s babbling on as she follows an exasperated Steve back to the front room, insisting, “Steve, I just want you to be happy!”

“Well maybe this won’t make me happy!” he yells, slamming down the tub he was holding and startling Nat, who stepped back a little. He was finally fed up. “No offense, Natasha, but the last time you tried to set me up with someone, I ended up with a broken heart and damaged trust! I was ruined, Natasha! Your cousin stole my innocence and dumped me for some rich bitch with fake tits that she bought with her daddy’s funds, knowing full well that she just wanted him for money and sex! And when she left him for someone better, he came crawling back, and I fucking forgave him! And I just ended up in the same damn ditch as the first time!” Natasha winced.

“Steve-“

“No!” He sighs, rubbing his forehead, and he sits down to take a few deep breaths. Nat goes to sit next to him to comfort him, but he pushes her away. “I’m sorry, Nat, I know you mean well, but this guy, Bucky… He just seems too perfect to be any good, okay? Exactly like Tony.” Nat’s face falls and she sits down in a waiting chair against the wall to the right of Steve, her shoulders slumped. “I mean, for God’s sake, he’s into tattoos, his hair is perfect, his laugh makes me weak at the knees and wanting to vomit, and he fucking rock climbs! He probably plays guitar too,” Steve mutters, admitting out loud just how besotted he was with this guy.

“Uhm, actually, it’s the cello,” comes a quiet voice from the doorway. Nat and Steve jump up and quickly turn to look to see who it is, and Steve wants to dig a hole, jump in it, and stay down there forever when he realizes that it’s Bucky himself. Speak of the devil, and all that. Bucky chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “Uhm, it might get a little lonely in that hole,” he says, looking up at Steve sheepishly. Steve’s jaw drops as he comprehends that he said that out loud, and he just wants to dig that hole deeper and bury himself.

“Uhm, Bucky, I-“ Nat stutters, then stops.

“I, uh… I forgot my jacket,” he explains, pointing to a dark denim jacket with leather sleeves slung over the arm of a waiting chair across the room.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he blurts out, “The cello.”

Bucky grins and shoves his hand into the pocket of his black skinny jeans. Steve knows it’s not the time to be looking at a guy’s crotch, but he can’t help himself, and that’s when he begins to notice a pattern with Bucky.

“Yeah, the cello.” Bucky laughs, and Steve wants to die. “My mom thought it would be a useful thing for a five year old to learn, and it just stuck.”

“Uh huh,” Steve replies lamely. The image of Bucky serenading him is edited to allow for Bucky holding a cello instead of a guitar, and the image would’ve made Steve crack up at any other moment in time. Bucky nods. “And, uh, how long-“

“Long enough.” Steve blushes and looks down, starting to count the black and white tiles beneath his boots. He kneels down when he notices the laces of the left shoe are untied, and he does them up slowly before standing again. Natasha is staring at him in disbelief, and Bucky is just looking around at the room.

“Uhm, it’s a bit messy. I didn’t get to clean up yesterday,” Steve says as an apology, glancing at Nat accusingly.

Bucky smiles. “It’s okay.” There’s a pause that seems to last forever, and then- “Listen, Steve. I don’t know anything about this Tony guy, but I know a few things about myself. And, uh, maybe I’m not the right guy for you. And I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do and what you need. But I’d really appreciate it if you gave me a chance. Maybe if we just got to know each other-“

“Yes,” Steve blurts. “Uhm, I mean-“

Bucky laughs, and it’s low and deep like it was the first day Steve saw him, and just like the first day, Steve finds himself completely and utterly attracted to this man once again.

“Great! That uh, that means a lot to me, Steve,” Bucky admits. “Really. You’re not the only one here with bad history in the romance department.” The two chuckle awkwardly, but they stop abruptly when Nat coughs, remembering her presence all of a sudden.

“Uhm, we only have a few more appointments, Steve. I can man the fort, if you wanna take off early,” she says, motioning to Bucky.

“Uh…” Steve looks at Bucky, who just smiles and shrugs. Nat smiles reassuringly. 

“Go on. I’ll be fine.”  
“You sure? I could uh-“  
“Go!” she exclaims, picking up a broom from her right and sweeping it towards him.

Steve laughs and wastes no time in getting his jacket. “Thanks Nat,” he says. “I mean it.” He kisses her on the cheek before running out.

He and Bucky exchange nervous grins as they walk out, but it doesn’t take long for the two to burst into eager conversation, all hand gestures and laughs.

Nat just smiles fondly.


End file.
